


Escape from Republic City

by karakael



Series: The Illusion of Separation [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karakael/pseuds/karakael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Liu comes face-to-face with his once-leader and must decide whether to abandon him without mercy...or try to find a way to forgive him and move on.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Council

The man formerly known only as “The Lieutenant” was slowly going mad. 

At least, that was what he told himself as he hurried home from the council chambers, his advocate badge glinting in the falling light. He hated the robes the United Forces made him wear, with their black-and-white pattern to remind everyone of his once-criminal status. He hated the way he had to bow and scrape to simply remind the occupying forces of logic, much less of the delicate political climates within Republic city. 

But that wasn’t what was driving him mad. That was just politics. It had become the norm in the four months since the failed revolution, and he was beginning to suspect that his former leader had set him up for it. Oh yes, the loyal bodyguard who was so appalled by the true colors of his master that he capitulated to the United Forces, but couldn’t stand to see his people left behind in the new world. 

It all made a very nice story, and with the Avatars bored one-word approval he had been allowed into the council chambers. Him, a farm boy who barely finished school. Him, the second most hated face of the Revolution. 

The first day he had worn cuffs and his prison cloths and had taken with him nothing but the book that was his last connection to Amon. He had referred to it five times over the course of that day, and at the end had been given the official approval by the UF. Despite the anger of the former council, the UF commanders seemed to think that a native non-bender’s voice would be useful in hammering out the new government of the state. 

Since then it had been nothing but politics, days of arguing and begging, all cumulating in today, the day that for the first time the people of Republic City would choose their own representatives. Four benders, one non-bender, chosen by vote in booths that were even now closing. He had worked for four months for this one moment, and couldn’t help but wonder if it had been Amon’s plan all along. 

That was what was driving him crazy. The idea that all of it, from the moment Amon had lifted him by his life-blood to the book that contained all of Amon’s plans for after the revolution had been handed to him, and then his acceptance as an aid…it all seemed too neat, to perfect. Had they won, had Amon never revealed himself, could he say that the city would be any better? 

He now knew that the revolution would have failed one way or another. Even if they had won against the United Forces, the Equalists would have never been able to hold the city. The Earth Kingdom had blockades in place that would have starved the it, and the Fire Nation would not have tolerated an isolationist port. Whether through starvation or full invasion, the Equalist City would have fallen. 

But now, without any help from the juvenile Avatar or blood-bending or “equalizing” the city was finding peace. Bending against others was expressly forbidden outside pro-bending tournaments. Red-lined housing districts were falling apart. The police force was training non-benders and Earth-benders alike, and for the first time in over twenty five years non-benders were being trained openly in both chi-blocking and weaponry, though carrying was still forbidden. 

And there, in the book that was “proof” of Amon’s death, was the broad outlines of the very Republic City that was now taking form, under a sub-section entitled “in case of failure: thoughts on an impossible future”. 

Amon had known. Somehow, he had known the revolution would fail, and that someone would have had to take his place. Within the book were instructions for his successor, urging whoever they were to examine their motives before accepting the burden. 

And burden it was. The book made that clear, hinting at the worst of the moral depravity Republic City politics would demand of its leaders. 

Liu didn’t know if he would have been able to stand it, were it not for the other part of his madness. 

It felt as if Amon was still alive. Whenever he was tempted to take the easier rout, to lie to make things simpler, or to simplify to manipulate the United Forces leaders…there was a voice holding him back. 

The first time he had noticed it was when sitting in a park, writing his argument for the papers, as to why the discretization of the Equalists by the Avatar was shortsighted, if not completely wrong. 

And he had realized, with a start, that his words would be so much stronger if Amon had been a martyr. And why not? There was no proof that the water-bender who had fallen from the stadium was Amon. Only his and the Avatar’s words proved it. If he rescinded his statement the movement could rise again… 

“You would make me a martyr rather than yourself a hero? Really, Liu, have more honor.” 

The words had been clear, spoken as if Amon was standing just above his shoulder, as if they were back in training and he was correcting a fighting stance. 

Liu had stumbled back from the table, whirling to see if there was anyone behind him…but the park was empty except for a bandaged beggar sitting beneath a pear-apple tree. 

But the words had seemed so real, and had snapped his thinking back to reality, reminding him of the feel of blood against skin and the visceral shock of betrayal. How could he make that man a martyr? The one who had done so much to destroy their dreams and hopes? The one who had lied about everything, from his bending to his history to his connection with the spirits…no. That man was no hero, and Liu was insane for ever having thought of him as such. 

Even if he missed him. 

Even if his heart had leaped at the thought that he might still be alive. 

He had shaken the thoughts away and gone back to work, barely noticing when the sun went down and the lamps lit. Yet when he left the beggar was still there, watching the stars and mumbling to himself. 

Since then he’d seen the beggar all across the city, and heard Amon’s voice several times. It was as if his once-leader was haunting him, offering advice when the book and Liu’s Purpose fell short. 

But all that ended today. A non-bender would be elected to the council and Liu could return to prison, or find his own path. If he was honest with himself, he was looking forward to it. Politics left a sour taste in his mouth, and the idea of retiring somewhere far away from the back-stabbing and veiled threats was beginning to become more appealing. He had no desire for power and was beginning to see why Amon had constantly reminded him that those who desired power were the ones least deserving of it. 

\------------------------------------

As he hurried home more of the street lamps flickered on, lighting what once had been a dangerous boulevard in the worst area of the city. It had been all he had been able to afford, after the revolution had failed, but in the months since his urging for more egalitarian funds allotment had meant even the worst areas of the city had been repaved and lit. This quarter even had running water now, a luxury most of the city’s non-benders had never dreamed of affording. 

There was still a curfew, which was one of the reasons he was moving quickly, but it had been extended to all non-government citizens, rather than just non-benders. Everyone hated it, but it was an egalitarian hate, one that the whole city was fighting against. Liu felt like a traitor every time he walked after dark; even as an official, it felt wrong to be free when the city was not. Still, the vast majority of repairs were done at night, and the city grew even as its citizens languished indoors.

But tonight no one would complain. Tonight, it would all be over, and in homes all across the city people would sit around radios waiting to hear the shape their future would take. 

And today Liu wouldn’t be alone, and for that he was grateful. Sitting on the step in front of his modest row house was the former richest girl in Republic City. Her motorcycle was parked on the ally, and she smiled when he came into view. 

“Asami.” 

“Uncle Liu.” 

She took one of his packages and stood aside as he unlocked the door. That was another new thing – the Equalists never used locks. But after the first instance of a destroyed kitchen and graffiti-ed walls Liu had gotten used to locking the rest of the world out of his home. It wasn’t something he enjoyed, and if he left the city it would be to find a place where locks were no longer necessary – even if that meant finding a place to poor to steal from. 

But Asami was one of the few undeniably good things that had come from the revolution. He had once been her tutor, and one of the many mechanics that worked under her father. She had hated him after the truth came out, and he had never expected to hear from her again. 

Yet after the revolution, after being left behind as the Avatar gathered her true friends and returned to the pole…she had appeared on his steps, five feet of angry teenager, and demanded to hear his story – all of it, nothing left out, stripped of all the pretty words that the press had painted and as honest as he could bare to make it. 

He hadn’t considered at the time why she had so desperately needed his words, simply thinking that she, of all the youngsters in the city, deserved an explanation. 

But in the months since, as he fought for her company to be returned to her and her father to be institutionalize rather than jailed…he had realized that she needed his words perhaps more than her fathers. There was no sense in the way Hiroshi had treated his daughter, but after Liu described the agony the man had gone through, the ways he had hidden his grief and pain from his daughter, the decision to finally change the world and his need to protect the last remaining love of his life followed by his rage at her being thrust aside in favor of a powerful bender…somehow that had helped Asami heal. 

She still didn’t agree with the Equalist, still considered herself a friend of the Avatar, but she was going to visit her father once a week now, paying for his medical bills out of her own trust fund and trying to heal the rift that had grown between them. 

Normally she ended up at Liu’s door after these meetings, intent on either crying on his shoulder, beating him to a pulp on the training mat, or dragging him into her workshop to take apart and explain her father’s automatons. 

But tonight was different. She followed him into his home silently, going immediately to put on the kettle and turn on the radio as he unloaded the boxes that held all the papers from his desk. 

The tea was the biggest extravagance he could afford, but Asami hadn’t offered to help him with his lack of funds…and he would have refused her pity anyways. Perhaps she knew that the stark layout of his home and lack of keepsakes from his desk were a symptom of his deeper distrust of attachments and need to distance himself from the world. He had never been a man preoccupied with material wealth – he had never earned enough to accrue much – but there were many small knickknacks he had accumulated during his time with the Equalists. 

They had all been destroyed when the last base had fallen, and now the only thing he had to remember the ten years he had spent as a radical was a tattered book and a broken pair of goggles. 

After losing so much, it seemed pointless to try to start all over again. He was too old for it, for one thing. Two lives he had started, two families, and both had been destroyed by benders and betrayal. 

But Asami reminded him of all the good he had worked for in the last four months, and the persistent ghost of his former leader kept him from considering too seriously whether the spirit world would provide an easier path. 

So when the radio finally crackled and the music died, to be replaced by a flustered reporter, Liu and Asami were sitting at a table made of boxes and cardboard, sipping tea and soup and talking of the newest Future engines. 

There was a smile on his face, and she laughed as soup dribbled down his whiskers. 

“So on this historic occasion, let us give thanks to the Spirit of the World for watching over us in and bringing us to peace in these troubled times. As has been tradition, to start the council listings will be the Fire Representative. 

“We welcome ‘Lightning Bolt’ Zolt to the council. Councilor, would you like to speak a few words?” 

The table fell over with a crash, as Asami stood in shock. 

“That can’t be right.” She looked to Liu, whose face was set in a grim line, but didn’t look surprised. 

“Asami, you should leave.” 

“What? No! This isn’t right! You can’t seriously believe that the Zolt – “ 

“And as I look at the rest of the council, I know that while we have had our differences in the past, we will be able to work towards a brighter, peaceful future, where no non-bender need be feared again.” 

“Thank you, Councilor. And now to our next representative, from the Water Tribe, also having only recently regained his bending, I introduce – “ 

Asami watched, open mouthed, as Liu cleaned up the spilled bowls, listening without any clear reaction as a leader from each of the Triads was named to the council. Even the one non-bender, a man named Zin Qan, was known to have been in the payroll of the Triple Threats for years, only buying his way out of scandals or avoiding the press when reporters ‘mysteriously’ went missing. 

But Liu didn’t react to the list of names, only repeating once more “Asami, it’s time for you to leave.” 

“You…You knew this was going to happen?” 

He placed the broken pottery in the sink. “No. But I knew it was a possibility. I warned the UF that they needed more observers in the polling places, I warned them that the Triads would rig the election in any way they could…but the wider world does not believe the impact that organized crime has upon our city.” He sighed sadly. “At least they will learn now. The Triads were too greedy, and there’s no way the UF will be able to ignore the corruption now.” 

“So…what? They’ll call the election fraudulent, and we’ll have to do this all over again?” 

“What is the alternative?” He whirled around, his face white and his fists clenched in his robe. At her look of shock he backed away, forcing himself to relax. “They would have never believed me. At least now they will know what to lookout for.” 

“And if they don’t? If they say that this is what Republic City wants? To be controlled by the mob and have everyone, not just non-benders and the poor, live in fear of the Triads?” 

Liu looked away, his hands white on the counter top and his lips curled under his teeth. 

“Did you not think of that, or did you simply not have the courage to face it?” She snapped, wanting at least some reaction out of him. 

His shoulders hunched, and she knew the blow had hit hard – harder than she had meant, as the complaints and worries he had voiced over the last month came suddenly rushing back. 

“You should leave.” He whispered, head still bowed. 

“Why? Why do you want me gone so badly?” 

He turned, about to answer, when the phone rang. He gave her a single look, half remorse and half pity, then walked over to answer it. The conversation was muffled, and she looked away, instead focusing on the noise from the radio. 

“What do you plan to do in office, Mr. Zolt?” 

A heavy laugh. “We haven’t decided quite yet. But there is one thing that we, as a council have already decided upon. While the UF has done a wonderful job supporting the people of our fair city in these troubled times, we feel it is time to send a message that their support is no longer necessary. We can take care of our own criminals.” 

The lizard smile was audible even from the radio. 

“As such, we are rescinding the amnesty upon Equalists and Equalist sympathizers. Republic City will not stand for those who would question the authority of the United Federation and the Council. As such, Hiroshi Sato, Liu Ten, Lau Gan-Lan and all suspected leaders of the Equalist movement will surrender themselves into custody immediately. Resisting arrest will be considered a capital offense, and immediate action will be taken. 

“Welcome to the new Republic City. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.” 

“Asami.” 

Liu’s voice jerked her back to reality, her face white and her knees beginning to shake. They were going after her father. The Agni Kais had always wanted their business, now they had the opportunity – all it would take would be to get him out of the way and declare her too young to inherit… 

“Your father is safe, Asami. As will you be, as soon as we get you out of here. I know you have no love for the Equalists, but we have been preparing for something like this since before the revolution. I have friends who will – “ 

“And what about you?” Her words were clipped and harsh, just as emotionless as the cold responses he’d been giving her. “Where are you going to hide?” 

The look in his face was enough of an answer. 

“Spirits. You’re going to let them take you.” 

He looked away. “They need an example, Asami. If they capture no one, then they’ll choose someone random, someone innocent, someone we couldn’t save.” 

“And what, you’ll become the martyr the Equalists need?” 

The words lashed out like a blow, so close to that ghost-Amon’s words that they struck even harder, leaving him flailing. 

“I’m not letting you go. After the last four months, you’re just going to give yourself up, give up all we’ve fought for, in the hopes that the UF will do something? I won’t let you die, Uncle Liu, even if it would be better for Republic City!” 

Behind her, the door shattered inward. 

“It looks like you aren’t going to have the opportunity.” Liu whispered, hands raised, automatically going for the wooden cooking instruments, the closest thing to his kali sticks he was now allowed. 

He pushed her backwards, protecting her with one outstretched arm, as the bending squad filed into the room. Two water-benders, an earth-bender cop, and a member of the Agni-Kais. He had faced larger groups, but then he was in better practice, and these were all experts. He heard the tinkling of glass from the back – and they had brought backup. 

“Well, this is lucky. We were told to bring the Lieutenant in, but we get the heir of Future Industries as well. Were we supposed to kill her as well?” 

Asami’s heart skipped a beat at the leer the fire-bender gave her, and she instinctively reached for the power-glove she had once worn. But as a citizen, she was allowed no weapons. Both she and Liu would have to rely on their self-defense training…and they were out-numbered, outmatched and surrounded. 

“What’s this, a non-bender with a weapon? Didn’t you know that’s illegal, old man?” One of the other benders asked, laughing at the hasty weapons. 

“No more illegal than using bending on civilians.” Answered the former Lieutenant calmly. 

“Oh, but we’re officers. Sworn in and everything. First job – kill you. Second job – burn down the street. That’ll teach this city who to fear.” 

“A pity you won’t be there to see it. But you’re death will more than make up for it.” 

“I’m afraid it is you who won’t be seeing the morning, young man.”

Everyone in the house stiffened at the voice. It seemed to echo through the building, reaching into the body and closing a fist on the spine. The terror that the voice evoked even touched Asami and her eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the voice – his voice.

Liu’s eyes went directly to the staircase. It creaked, as someone moved on the bowed boards of the upper room, then creaked again as someone began descending the stairs.

“I am rather impressed at your courage. For common thugs, that is. One would have thought your superiors would have warned you about the protection this man has.”

Liu recognized the boots as they came into view. It was an old pair, worn and chapped, a nick in one toe that had come from an ice-spike that had slashed his arm on its way to his master.

“But perhaps you really are naive, or deaf, since you apparently had noticed that any of your friend who dared approach my Lieutenant haven’t reported back.”

The pants were just as worn as the boots, but surely must look impressive to the rest, Liu thought. No patches – the Equalist leader had never allowed his uniform to give the appearance of damage. Instead he wore things until they tore, then ensured they found their way into the hands of someone needy.

“How many has it been, now? Ten, twenty? Did you really believe I would allow my closest follower to be assassinated by the likes of you?” 

There was disgust in the voice, modulated by the captivating, constant rhythm of the man’s words. It was that rhythm – the way his voice fell so easily into the rolling swell of lecture – that had first given credence to spiritual direction in Liu’s mind. Of course that was a lie, but now, with a man he knew to be dead descending his stairs…he could almost believe it. 

The benders, however, were taking it hook, line and sinker. Already one of the water-benders was shuffling behind the other, grasping for the broken door-frame. The fire-bender was glaring, but his knees shook.

“You didn’t…you couldn’t…you’re dead!” one finally screamed, and darted forward, floorboards ripping with the sudden up-swell of earth. 

Amon rolled a shoulder, the earth slamming harmlessly into the wall. 

“Now now, what call have you to be angry? I’m doing you a favor.” 

“Favor this you – “ 

The water splashed harmlessly to the ground. 

“I wasn’t done speaking, young man.” The water bender stared at his frozen hand. “As I was saying, I am doing you a favor. I’ve gotten bored playing my games with you, and have decided to take my Lieutenant to the spirit world. Since you lot apparently don’t appreciate the work he’s done for you…” 

There was a crash, and the other team burst in through the back, shoving Asami and Liu to the ground. Not realizing the ghost they faced, they simply attacked, three elements firing at the apparition at once…and eight bodies jerked in the air just as fast. 

“Fools. Every one of you.” The voice was a growl, almost too low to be heard under the creaks of bone and agonized gurgling. “I am Amon. I take what is mine, and Equalize those who would oppose me. Think on this when you return to your masters, for if this city falls, I will return.” 

And with that he tightened his hands, cutting off their pleas with a sickening crack. The benders hit the floor like ragdolls, eyes wide in horror, breaths ragged in their chest. 

And finally, the monster turned to the two non-benders huddling on the floor. 

“Liu. Asami. Are you ready to go yet?” 

“Am –“ 

“Yes, yes. But really. Must I do everything for you?”

A bag was tugged from the loft and thrown over. It hit Liu’s chest, and bounced on the floor, soft from the clothing stuffed in it, but heavy from the coins shoved in the bottom and the various equipment he had not been able to leave behind.

Liu hadn’t intended to leave, had things gone sour with the election, but prompted by the ghost now standing before him, he had packed anyways.

Still in a state of shock, he stumbled to his feet and pulled a sheaf of papers off the tea-splattered table.

“Here.” He shoved the papers into Asami’s hands. “This is all of the Equalists contacts that you will need. They’ll lead you to your father. Do whatever you want with them after that.”

“Liu, what – “ 

“I can’t stay. You can’t stay, but Republic City needs you. The Avatar needs you. It doesn’t need people like me anymore, but you can change things.” 

“I don’t understand. That can’t possibly be Amon, and you can’t seriously be thinking of leaving…” 

“I don’t understand either, but when they wake up, they’ll think I’m dead, and that will be enough. Republic City will have its martyr, and I'll finally be free.” 

He pulled her into an embrace, not believing himself what he was about to do, then turned and followed the masked man out into the back ally. 

“Wait!” He turned, and Asami threw something at him. 

A tea-cup, wrapped in her purse. It was heavy with coins…and the tiny pocket radio she’d been working on for the last week.

“You better call me!”

He was about to reply, but then the man who couldn’t possibly be Amon was tugging him away, into the night, and somehow, against all odds, his heart seemed to be beating again.


	2. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liu comes face-to-face with his once-leader and must decide whether to abandon him without mercy...or try to find a way to forgive him and move on.

Liu ran. Blood pounded in his ears and his hands tightened around the hand gripping his.

It felt wrong. Too boney, the fingers hanging loose in the thick fabric of the gloves that the once-leader had worn. 

This man could not be Amon.

And if it was, there was no reason for Liu to have followed him. Not after all the lies and harm that Amon had done to the Equalist cause. Not after what he had done to him.

But it was tempting to forget all of that, to get lost in the feeling of wind on his face and blood in his ears. How many times had they done this? Fleeing through the empty city, feet slapping familiar cobbles, smoke in the air and fire in their hearts…on those nights Liu hadn’t questioned his master once, not because of an air-tight alibi or a powerful voice, but instead because of the feeling of peace and purpose the burning streets had offered. Who else would have accepted someone as broken as Liu had been? Who else would have seen through the rural drawl and angry eyes and pulled out from it both a commander and one of the best mechanics in the city? He hadn’t hoped that Amon’s words were true, he had known it deep within his soul. 

In the months since Amon’s death Liu had struggled to find that same feeling of content and hope that he had felt in the Equalists. Staring down politicians would never send his blood singing. A pen was no replacement for a hammer or kali stick. And no matter how much he hated what the man had done, there was no replacement for the wry porcelain smile and the broad back pressed against his, willing to fight off the entire world if need be.

Yet now he felt it again. That same rage directed at a broken government, same hope for a better tomorrow in the face of impossible odds…and a hand holding his and leading him on.

How dare he? How dare this impostor bring back these memories from a time before the lies and betrayal?

Amon wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. It was just another lie, but for once Liu didn’t have the courage to resist it. For just a few moments longer, he wanted that memory…

Then the man who couldn’t be Amon stumbled, losing his grip on Liu’s hand, and crashing to the cobbles.

Liu turned, jolted out of the dream, eyes flickering to find a non-existent attacker. But there was no enemy, merely the man who wore Amon’s mask slumped upon the cobbles like a marionette with cut strings.

“Go!” He hissed, even as Liu knelt to help him. “You know the hideout. There are supplies – “

He interrupted himself with a fit of wheezing.

Liu’s eyes narrowed. 

“I’m not abandoning my savior.”

“I’m not the man you think I am. Now go!”

The man – whoever he was – struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall. There were shouts in the distance and the crackle of fire. Liu’s eyes flickered upwards, seeing the threatened burning of his home five streets away, and then back down to the man who claimed to be Amon, once more lying on the cobbles after his legs gave out.

It wasn’t Amon, that was certain. Amon would have never expected his Lieutenant to leave a mystery behind.

 

\------------------- 

 

Liu shouldered the door to the Flat’s hideout open, grunting as he maneuvered his unconscious companion. Behind him the door slammed even as he slung the man down on the narrow bed and searched for the cuffs every hideout – even those long decommissioned – had. Savior the man might be, but Liu had never been one to ignore practicality for sentiment.

The cuffs snapped shut, securing the man to the bed, and Liu went about examining the hideout.

Just as the man had said, it was well equipped. Too well equipped for a hideout that had been abandoned for over two years. Liu doubted anyone but he and a few of the other earliest Equalists remembered the place was here, in the heart of the Dragon Flats, with the cheapest rent and the smallest living conditions.

The hideout was barely more than a room, a shack made from walling off a former alley and then abandoned by the once-owners after the triads asked for too much insurance. The place had been one of the first hideouts they’d been able to find, long before the Equalists had moved underground. There was no running water, and light was provided by a single paper lantern. But the blackout screen was still over the door, hiding the building’s occupancy, and the bed and chest still remained.

But there were scuffs in the dust, and supplies stacked against the walls. Coal, sleeping bags, winter clothing, foodstuffs…the place was outfitted for a journey, just as the man with Amon’s voice had said. 

As for him…Liu turned the light brighter, using it to kindle a small fire in the floor grate. With the added light he approached the bed again, looking down at the unconscious man.

First the mask. Liu had enough of those for one lifetime.

Carefully he pushed the man’s hood back, fingers recoiling from dirty hair cut criminally short. The ties were next, his hands fumbling on the alien knot. Then he paused, the enormity of the act forcing him to freeze. Ten years, and he had never touched Amon’s mask. It was an unspoken rule, exactly like the one where no one asked about an Equalists history. Even if the man was an imposter, even if the impossible happened and he wasn’t, it felt wrong to impose upon the man’s privacy in such a way.

“Go ahead. Take it off.”

Liu started. The man with Amon’s voice had spoken, but his body was limp and the eyes beneath the mask were still closed. Other than a hitch of pained breath, there was no indication that he had been awake.

Liu paused, waiting for the man to move or say more, but the man remained silent.

Finally he followed his instincts and forced the mask away.

Beneath it…wasn’t what he had expected. Dirty white fabric clung to the mask, ripping as Liu set it aside. Beneath that was a gaunt face, high cheekbones and lose skin, hidden behind bandages and gauze.

Eyes still closed, the man spoke again. “You might as well remove the rest. They’ve served their purpose.”

Cotton fell, revealing a black eye and mottled bruising around lips and nose. Liu swore, and looked for water and another compress. Though the man wasn’t bleeding, his face was dirty and there were signs of infection running along poorly healing cuts. Whoever he was, he needed medical attention.

“Don’t…don’t waste the supplies.”

Liu glanced up from rummaging through the bags, and saw the man forcing himself into a sitting position. A thought flashed through his mind – if the man’s face was so damaged, what of the rest of his body?

As if reading his mind, the man began to repeat himself. “Don’t waste them on someone like – “

“I don’t remember telling you to talk.”

The man’s mouth snapped shut as Liu stood and returned to the mat. Water splashed on a cloth, and the man turned his head, eyes still closed, away from Liu’s touch.

Grunting in irritation, Liu grabbed his jaw and turned the man to face him.

“Now. I’m going to fix you up, and get a good look at you, and while I’m doing that you’re going to tell me who the hell you are, understand?”

The man hesitated, then nodded once. 

“Good.”

Hands following the ridges of the man’s face, Liu waited in silence for a few moments.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Who are you?”

The man laughed, a bitter, angry laugh that quickly turned into a hacking cough. Broken ribs, if Liu was any judge.

“I thought…I though you would remember me.”

“If you’re still saying that you’re Amon…”

“No. After that.”

Liu’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned away, looking at the man closer. The voice was Amon’s, the eyes were still closed but…

It clicked, and he whistled quietly. “The beggar. The one in the park. It was you.”

The tension in the man’s shoulders loosened slightly. “Yes.”

“You…you were there each time I heard Amon’s voice.”

A nod.

Liu sat back, damp cloth forgotten as he reevaluated the last four months. So that was that. Not a ghost or a guilty conscious, not a guardian spirit or an unspoken amnesty. Just a beggar with the voice of a dead man.

“And the reason no one assassinated me…that was you to.”

Another nod. Liu should have known. The triads were too stupid to save a scapegoat for something momentous. They’d probably been trying to kill him since the moment he’d left police custody. But that still didn’t explain…

“Why?”

The pause this time was longer, and the hands in the shackles clenched and released.

“Doesn’t…” Another pause, and when he spoke again there was a bitter irony in his voice. “Doesn’t Amon have every reason to protect his Lieutenant?”

Something snapped, and Liu found himself with his hands around the man’s neck. How dare he use Amon’s voice like that!

The sudden movement hurled the man backwards, slamming his head against the wall, even as Liu found himself straddling the man, pinning his arms beneath his legs, his hands releasing their death grip on the imposter’s throat only to clutch at his uniform.

At the sickening slam of head against stone the man’s eyes finally opened, in time with his howl of pain.

Grey eyes, with hints of yellow brought on by fear, or anger, or whatever emotion the man was feeling as he slumped weakly beneath the former Lieutenant.

The voice…Liu had been telling himself it was fake. A skilled bender could find a way to fake a voice, to pull the vocal cords in such a way as to mimic another speaker.

And the uniform could have been stolen. The man beneath it certainly looked nothing like the body Liu had once admired from afar.

But the eyes…even misted with tears, even hidden behind blacked lids, blood-shot and anguished…

They were the eyes of his former master.

“…Amon?”

After so long avoiding contact, after so long hiding his identity, the man seemed unable to look away. So there was no flicker of deception in his response, even as the words seemed rung out of him.

“I never deserved that name. I’m just Noa now.”

\------------------------------------------- 

The anger was back again, simmering under the surface as Liu examined his former leader with a new, critical look. Stripped of his Equalist leathers – though where the hell Amon had found them was a mystery – his body showed the same starvation and abuse his face did. If the man truly was Amon, then in the five months since the failed revolution he had eaten little and bathed less. Skin hung from boney ribs, two of which showed bruising indicative of multiple breaks. The once toned body had been ravaged, as muscle mass and fat was consumed to feed the starving man.

And the injuries…the cuts and bruises on the face were only the most recent wounds. Beneath the gloves were two broken fingers, tied together as soon as the man wincingly removed the gloves. Broken ribs and scars from stab wounds, dozens of ugly bruises mottling the skin of his back and sides, knees scrapped raw and blisters peppering the soles of his bandaged feet.

Liu swore, and found more water, only to once again be shrugged away.

“I don’t need it.”

The former Lieutenant slapped the quivering hands away.

“You have half a dozen injuries.”

“You’ve had worse.” The man replied, once again shifting away.

“I also had proper treatment, rather than hiding my pain for weeks on end.”

A snort, and Lie had to admit that was stretching it a bit. How many times had Amon dragged Liu to the infirmary for some small injury that he’d refused to tend to?

“I haven’t hidden anything. These injuries are all from the last week.”

Carefully, Liu set down the cloth and looked again at the man’s body. Only one week? The wounds were nearly healed or minor, but the bruises and broken bones…Liu had only those kinds of injuries when he was protecting Amon from daily attacks. 

“And there is no place I could go, even if I wished to.” 

The man swore as Liu lanced open a blister. “You’ve apparently protected me all this time, and yet you never thought to go to the clinics that I slaved over?”

“I did not deserve them.” A wincing shrug. “After all that I’ve done…”

“Oh, the great Amon can show remorse? Somehow I forgot that after you tried to squeeze the life out of me!” Liu snapped. “Or have you been wallowing in self-pity so long you’ve forgotten that bodyguards are useless if they don’t take care of themselves?”

The man’s face went white as the barb hit home. Carefully he answered. “Even had I wanted to, I could not seek help, even as a beggar.”

“Why? No one would recognize you. Only a handful ever saw you without the mask…” Liu trailed off, washing out a particularly brutal wound. “No…that’s not what you were hiding.”

Noa nodded. “It is easy enough to play the mute beggar, but not among others of the same ilk. They would have recognized me for who I was instantly.”

“And you couldn’t leave Republic City...because of me?”

Another nod and Liu sat back, bloody rag in his hands, to look at his handiwork. He’d never been a good medic, with all his knowledge gained haphazardly out of necessity. But still, the body before him looked wrong. Oh, the man was right, the obvious wounds were superficial and Equalists did heal fast – they had to. But that gaunt figure on the heavy-set frame…starvation alone wouldn’t do that to a man. Not in a mere four months.

Perhaps the former Amon truly did feel remorse. Perhaps he was serving in the shadows out of penance, rather than a twisted self-loathing.

But Liu wasn’t going to take that chance. He’d followed this man blindly one to many times.

“So you’ve saved me. The government thinks I’m dead, Asami and the Equalists will rebuild the city, and against all odds we’ve both survived. Tell me, was this all your plan too, Mr. Speech-writer?”

Amon looked ashamed, which was lucky since if he’d tried to deny his interference with Liu’s politics he would have been eating knuckles. 

“So then, what’s next? We ride off into the sunset while the city burns, and go spread your filth somewhere else?”

“No!” The wounded man struggled up again. “I was not to come with you. You should be already outside the city, safe from the mobs…”

“You were going to stay behind. And do what, exactly? Die?!”

The guilty look was enough to prove his words. Of course the man behind the mask would have an expressive face; he had spent years never needing to hide his emotions. So while he could still speak in a steady, if faint, drawl, Liu could read his thoughts from the twitch of his mouth and the shame on his brow.

“That’s wonderful. You plan to die not once, but twice. You didn’t think your death was hard enough on me the first time?”

“I thought…”

“You thought wrong!” Liu snapped. “Ever the martyr, right? Instead of staying around and cleaning up the mess you made, you took the easy way out and left us with the dirty work. No, don’t speak, I know your excuses. I don’t care how much you deserve it, how much you regret the lies and the deception. You would say the same back at the beginning, always eager to die for the cause, always having to be pulled back. Hah. Now I know why. Being dead would be better than facing up to what you are, right?”

The words seemed to slice into the injured man, causing him to clench his jaw and look away. Again Liu forced his eyes back to his.

“But you screwed up. Somehow, you survived. And now I know you’re still alive, so I cannot leave you behind. You’re going to have to live with yourself, or I will see to it that you will never speak again in this world or the next.”

A flash of rage in the grey eyes, a bit tongue, and clenched hands. Oh, how this martyr must have prayed for an end to all of this. Groveling didn’t suit the man, broken as he was, but he had learned deference somewhere. Certainly not from the Equalists. But that thought could wait, as the former Amon forced himself to nod, once. 

It would have to do. Because damned if Liu was leaving him behind. Not after he finally got him back.

\-------------------------------


	3. Korral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liu is dragged to meet the "new" Tarrlok and is forced to come to terms with the burden he has decided to bear.

“So. Are you going to tell me how you got all of this stuff?” 

It was early morning. Four, maybe five on the clock. The city was silent, still recovering from the attempted purge of the night before. But there were no guards on the streets, only easy to avoid UF patrols, and for that both of the men were grateful. That alone indicated that the UF had seen the Triad ploy for what it was, and had been quick to end the coup before it turned into a reign of terror. Perhaps the city would find peace on its own now that the taint of the Equalists was purged and the city was united against a common foe.

Amon might buy that bullshit, but Liu wouldn’t have it. Violence might make the masses sit up and notice, but the cost on lives and family wasn’t worth it. He’d learned that in the months following the failed revolution.

So his flight seemed more like cowardice than courage. He could stay, he could pick up the pieces, and continue the slow slog to prosperity. Or he could run away with a monster and leave all the hard work behind. Just like Amon had done to him, four months previously.

Yet…he couldn’t blame the damn man. Liu glanced over at his companion, who had insisted upon walking. Hood tugged low, bandages – now clean – rewrapped. Could this shell of a man have truly done anything better than he did? Now that the mask was gone, all that was left was a fractured soul, someone who had given his whole being to a cause and yet couldn’t seem to die now that it was lost.

Resolutely Liu clutched the reigns of the goat-bison. Somehow Amon had scrapped together the funds to buy the beast. He hadn’t eaten for weeks, and yet he had saved every penny and outfitted the bison with enough supplies to last a trip across the continent.

That wasn’t the action of a man looking for glory in the mutiny of the populace. Perhaps it was the actions of one obsessed with atoning, perhaps with a selfish desire to ‘free’ Liu from a burden he had willingly born. Yet, after ten years of giving himself to the city, Liu couldn’t seem to care. Perhaps he too was a coward, unable to face fading into obscurity as another government fluky. But hadn’t they given enough to this city? Did it need more blood from them, more broken promises and agonizing nights?

No. The man who was once Amon might atone, but it would be to Liu alone. The city had done enough to them and whatever guilt he felt in his heart was more than enough punishment for now. 

\-------------------------------------------------- 

An hour out from the city, and it felt as if a weight had been pulled off of Liu’s chest. For the first time he could actually stop and think about where they could go. While still in the city it had seemed impossible to picture either himself or the former Amon anywhere but Republic City. So when they had left the gate he had simply pointed a random direction and ignored Noa’s odd look.

But now…

“We can’t go anywhere close to the city.” He spoke aloud, finally breaking the silence.

Noa nodded. “We are both too recognizable.”

“Yet you didn’t speak up when I pointed this direction. Why?”

“I thought you were the leader here.”

The humor in Noa’s voice quickly died at the glare Liu gave him. 

“No ‘leaders’. No servants or second-in-commands. We left that behind in the city, you hear me? If you want to repay your debt, you can start by being honest and give me the truth when I ask for it.”

Chastised, Noa nodded in aquesance. “This road will take us up the coastline. The way I came when I returned. If we keep heading this way…I might be able to see my brother again.”

Liu sputtered. “Tarrlok?! He’s still alive?” He hadn’t believed it when the Avatar had spilled the whole sorry story. Amon and Tarrlok were so opposite in so many ways, and the informal war between their ideologies had strengthened both sides of the conflict within the city. And then to find out they were brothers…

“I removed his memories. I thought…that it would give him a chance to live the life he should have had. Free from our father and our heritage…”

“Wait. Go back a bit. You did what? To his memories?!” Liu yanked the bison to a halt, pulling the beast to the side of the road to dismount and glare at his companion. Only self-control stopped him from shaking the man. 

The former Amon looked guilty. It was starting to become a habit. “Blood-bending has far more uses than simply stealing someone’s bending or immobilizing them. A clot in the correct area of the brain can do many things…”

“How many people have you used this on?” Now he did shake him. He had known Amon was powerful, known that there was more than just chi-blocking to his command over blocking bending, but he had never considered the power blood-bending might have combined with the knowledge of chi-blocking.

“None! It was too dangerous to use, and the consequences too unpredictable!”

“Yet you used it on your brother?!” 

“It was better than letting him live on as a monster!”

Noa hadn’t intended to shout, but Liu froze none-the-less. As Amon he had never shouted, never let his emotions run wild. Since giving up that identity, crazed emotions seemed to be all he could manage.

But Liu didn’t seem horrified. Instead, as he released Noa’s arms, he seemed…sad.

“A monster? Is that what being a blood-bender is?”

“Of course.” Noa looked away. “I thought differently once. But it’s an evil skill, and twists everyone who uses it. All of the evils of bending, distilled down into its purest essence, then forced upon children already disposed to cruelty. There is nothing good blood-bending can do.”

A pause, as he worked over his words in his mind.

“But…one evil to remove another…is that not justified?”

Liu snorted and remounted the bison-horse. “You’re a fool, Noatak. Your blood-bending destroyed our revolution, and now you’ve used it to destroy your brother. You had no right to make that choice for him, and you know it.”

“I…” Noa sighed. “Perhaps. But he would have been hung for what he did, or tortured for his knowledge of me. And even had he not…what future was there for him? A disgraced Politian has few options, and all of them would have lead him down the same path our father tread.”

“So, you want to go up the coast to check on him? To see if your tricks robbed him of his sanity as well as his memory? Some brother.” 

“We’ve never been good at kindness in my family. The best we could do was take a blow for another.”

Liu glanced over at his companion, shuffling along beside him, road dust reaching to his knees. It was hard to bring the anger back to boil for a man like Tarrlok. The man had done horrific things to the Equalist’s he’d captured. Becoming a gibbering loon seemed almost just rewards. But that was just another way to run away, wasn’t it? Death or insanity – either protected him from the burdens of responsibility for the chaos he’d caused. 

Burdens Amon had took completely upon himself when stealing Tarrlok’s memories. No wonder he didn’t think starving was enough recompensance. 

And this…this was more information about Amon’s past than he had ever offered up before. Strange, how only through death had Liu learned anything about him at all. And now it was some new man, with the voice of his friend and the scars of a real man, spilling hints of abuse and loneliness.

“Your father…”

But there was a spark of anguish in Noa’s eyes, and Liu left it there.

“Alright. We’ll check on your brother and I will try not to kill him. Where are we headed?”

“Harlok’s Point.”

\-------------------------------------- 

Over the next four days the coastline turned from farmland to forests. Winter was bitter on the coastlines, and the trees had to be hearty to withstand the gales that would blow all seasons of the year. Liu felt uncomfortable beneath their heavy boughs, but Noa seemed to relax once they were hidden from the city plane.

They had seen few others while they traveled; farmers in distant fields, a few UF patrols galloping by on their horse-wolves, occasional peasants heading towards the city. Further inland the train ran, never far from the road they followed but quickly hidden once they reached the forest. They could hear it occasionally in the distance, rumbling, calling as it crossed over roads.

Nights on the ground were taking their toll on Liu. Once he had prided himself in his ability to sleep anywhere, from the streets of Republic City to the sewers beneath. Equalists needed to be able to sleep quickly, especially the leaders, in case they were discovered and needed to flee or, more often, were called in to break up gang fights in non-bender burrows. But the forest floor was hard, even with the extra padding of the sleeping bags and blankets Noa included, and it had been years since the last time he was without at least a pallet. Furthermore he had never slept out of doors before, and the whisper of animals and patter of leaves woke him several times in the night.

Noa was the complete opposite. The further he got from the city, the less like the tense, wary sinner he acted. The fresh air healed his complexion and Liu even caught him smiling once or twice at the flash of a bird or hare.

After the third day from the city he was even standing tall and striding rather than plodding through the days. Bruises still peaked from beneath his robes and he would wince occasionally from his damaged ribs, but on the whole the open plains and forests seemed to have a healing effect.

Liu wished they hadn’t left the plains behind. Too much of the forest startled him. Give him a city and machinery or a farm and fields, not this damp, rustling strangeness full of creatures he’d never seen and only heard warnings of.

Finally, as they camped on the third day, he broke down and questioned Noa on it.

“How can you stand this? The ground, the wet, and all insects?” 

The man looked up from tending the fire. “I grew on the ice of the North Pole. After that, green always was a luxury rather than a burden.”

“But you act so…familiar with this. Moving, camping out every night, tending the animals…” Liu struggled for the proper example. Yes, he knew that Noatak had been water-tribe, but most of their leaders preferred luxury when visiting Republic City, not sleeping on the ground and fetching their own water. And shouldn’t the farm boy be better at traveling than a boy from the frozen wastes? The man fed the damn bison first!

“I traveled on my own for fifteen years before coming to Republic City. This is more comfortable to me than living in a city ever could be.”

“I thought…” Liu flushed, frustrated that he was struggling more than his companion. And that he had never dreamed of the skills he was now showing. Fire-lighting? Tracking? Amon made hardy meals without a second thought, a skill he had never shown to the Equalists, while at the same time Liu would be hard pressed to use a single one of his talents in this drippy mire. It was strange; Liu had always been the one to help Amon, now it was the other way around. 

Noa glanced over, confused. “After we got to Harlock’s point, we can go wherever you wish. If you don’t like the forests, we could travel back into the Earth Kingdom and find a place in the farming villages.”

“Tch. I’m fine. I’d rather not return to any place close to Republic City.”

“There’s more to the Earth Kingdom than one or two cities.”

“Yes, but it’s been thirty years since I left the farm. I don’t know if…” He trailed off. He would be lying if he said he wanted to go home, lying if he said anyone would even remember him.

And there was the curious look, and Noa turned to him. “What was it like?”

Liu shrugged and sipped the tea that was becoming habit to brew first thing every evening. “I grew up in a big family. Middle child, always under someone’s feet or someone under mine. I…I never looked back after I ran away. They were nice people but…” He shook his head. “They had no use for someone who’d rather twiddle with the cotton-gin than plow the field.”

He trailed off, watching the fire crackle and the soup simmer. In the city this would have been considered a pitiful meal and a meaningless conversation. In the city they would have had better things to talk about than old lives they were trying to forget. They never had time to talk like this in the Equalists; someone would always be interrupting with questions or messages or needing orders.

But out here the silence deepened as he brooded. The trees listened in, bending to shadow the fire and enclose them in a wall of interest. Noa watched expectantly, his own mug forgotten in his hands and his tired eyes reflecting the sparks in the fire.

“I…I don’t even remember my siblings’ names. There were so many of them. After that, the city wasn’t strange. It was so easy to be anonymous there. But the city welcomed me in a way that my family never did. I became friends with the other mechanics because of my skills, met my wife at a newspaper stand by accident, and joined the Equalists after my landlord dragged me to the meetings. In the city you could hide when you wanted to, then two minutes later meet a life-long friend by both laughing at the same joke. It was those reasons I liked living in Republic City so much, before the riots.”

Noa nodded, remembering the man who had emerged from the flames. He himself had only been in the city a few weeks before the Bending Riots destroyed it. The Equalists had been just another gang, with only a few dozen members that had taken in a wounded wanderer with a mask. But everything changed after the riots and the madness the benders had displayed.

He shook away the thoughts of everything that came after. Looking back now it seemed the start of his demise, but then it was the only logical thing to do. It had been so easy to become the leader they had needed…

“I don’t want to remember them. Not the riots, not my family. They belong to a life burned to the ground.” 

Liu’s words were angry, with that quiet anguish he always had when speaking of his wife and daughter. As always, Noa felt the punch of shame at not being able to save them, and the loneliness of being unable to comfort his Lieutenant. 

“You…could you have healed them?”

The question hit like a blow and Noa’s hands tensed over his cup, the burning heat the only thing that kept him from walking across the fire to apologize once again. He should have never asked. Of course Liu would want to know why an all-powerful bender didn’t stoop to save his loved ones.

“No. I…” His voice broke. “I couldn’t save any of them. Blood-benders cannot heal. I tried. I swear to you I tried. But all I could do was stop the blood.”

When he finally had the courage to look up Liu was watching him, the anger in his eyes tempered by the look of…pity? Acceptance? It was unreadable, like many of the man’s expressions in the last four days.

“I thought healing and blood bending were closely tied.”

“Perhaps when healing is learned first, but by the time my mother tried to teach me it was too late.” He shook his head, remembering the lecture his father had given him when he had found him going over the healing motions over and over again, trying to make his bending work as it should.

_Healing is for women. Fighting is for men. Learn your place, Noatak, and never let me see you waste your talent on something useless again._

At that moment he had promised himself to become a healer and only years of failure had dissuaded him from the idea.

“But you tried to save them. Even though you told us you were a non-bender.”

“Yes. Hypocritical, isn’t it? Railing against healers but trying to save Equalists with the very power I hated.”

“Not when not a single healer wasted their time healing non-benders during the riots. At least you tried.”

The anger was back in his voice but for once it wasn’t directed at Noa. This they had spoken of before. Perhaps not with the complete knowledge of Amon’s abilities, but always with the same anger and frustration. The water-benders who turned away poor customers had failed Republic City, just as the council who upheld their actions had failed ever after. It was no accident the bending riots had caused the Equalists to grow exponentially, as the anger and loss caused by the riots had never once been answered.

“But this is getting us nowhere.” Liu sighed and set aside his soup. “Nothing can bring them back. Not you, not me, not the spirits.”

He stood, joints creaking, and turned to his sleeping bag, refusing to think more on the matter. The Equalists were done and W’hin and Hana were dead. All that was left of those two lives was the man who had pulled him out of both. He turned, intent upon going to a fatigued and bitter sleep.

Only to find that Noa had laid his sleeping bag beneath Liu’s, adding the extra cushioning he so desperately wanted. Somehow he’d known Liu was struggling with the ground, and had acted without question. But by the time Liu turned around, anger evaporated, to thank him, the younger man was curled up on the other side of the fire, coat draped over him and pretending to sleep. Even Liu could see through the charade, but it saved his dignity and he was grateful. 

\---------------------------------------------- 

Harlock’s Point was a tiny fishing village on the spear of a smaller peninsula. The lighthouse was the main feature of the place, acting as a beacon to the fisher-people and deep-sea vessels alike. The people were traditional colony folk through and through. Unlike Republic City, where heritage and bending were the two largest identifiers one could have, here people were mixed. Water-tribe folk mostly tended the sea, Earth the town and trade, with Fire giving the town its guards and mayor, but one couldn’t tell from looking what any one race a person hailed from. The seventy years since the occupation had stripped visible differences from the people who decided to stay. Mostly it was temperament that led individuals towards a certain path, not heritage.

Liu talked quietly to a shopkeeper, happy to be back in civilization, if only briefly. Haggling over prices and critically examining cabbage was a comfort after four days sleeping on the road. Though it certainly explained a lot, knowing now how much traveling the former Amon had done. The man had never been good at dealing with businessmen or shopkeepers, but he’d chat up the traders for gossip of the wider world (always seeming to get books out of the bargain; ‘a good story in exchange for good stories’ they always said.) Now it made sense. Of course hunters and traders were common in the North, but shopkeepers were a mainstay of the Earth Kingdom. Haggling was half the fun, at least in Liu’s mind. Noa preferred to stay to the side, nodding occasionally and keeping a sharp eye out for his brother.

Liu was about to make a criminally good bargain on a set of steel tools when Noa finally nudged him and pointed him in the direction of a couple wandering through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to spot them; everywhere there were little bows and respectful nods, as the Lighthouse Keepers wandered through the market. 

But when they saw the ‘soldier’ and his companion they stopped, startled. Then the man pushed his way through the crowd, as if Noa and Liu would try to escape. The woman disappeared, making quick apologies to the town’s folk and hurrying in the opposite direction.

“Noa! You came back!” The man held out a hand, a large smile spreading across his face. “How was the city? Did you learn who your friend was?”

Noa returned the shake, smiling tensely. So this is what it looks like when he’s lying, Liu thought to himself, even as Noa began explaining that no, no one knew who the injured man was.

“Oh.” The grin faded. “I’m sorry about that. But less sorry than I should be, if I’m honest. Your friend is a good worker, and having him around the lighthouse has been a blessing.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. He’s a natural water-bender, no doubt about that. He feels the storms coming, and we can warn the town far earlier because of it.” The man smiled fondly.

Liu coughed, bringing the man’s attention to him, partially to distract him from Noas 

“Oh. Liu, this is Tarn. Tarn, Liu. We were – uh – discharged at the same time.”

It took extreme self-control not to step on Noa’s toes. Suggesting that Liu was from the UF?! How dare – 

“With those injuries, I’m surprised they called you back at all. You’d best be careful when Rin returns, she’s like to tan your hide for walking around.”

Again the brittle smile from Noa, and he carefully avoided the narrowed eyed look Liu gave him. 

“My injuries were hardly that bad. It was my companion we feared for.”

Tarn nodded. “He was worse off than you, that’s true. Took two months to recover fully, and he’s badly scarred. Kept his eye sight, though, spirits be praised.”

But then Noa inhaled sharply, causing Liu to glance to where he was looking. The Lighthouse Keeper’s wife was back, trailing a man with a young woman following resolutely behind.

What was perhaps more surprising than seeing an old enemy come back to life was that he wasn’t the Tarrlok Liu remembered. Raggedy hair kept back in a loose tail, worn clothing the council man would have never touched, calloused hands and tanned skin…all that was secondary to the change in the face. Sure, if one looked hard enough, there was a reflection of the councilman in the high cheek bones and wry smile. But the hardness was gone. He smiled easily, laugh-lines replacing the old lines of tension and anger. His face was weathering in the harsh climate of the point, but there was happiness in his eyes.

Politely he bowed to them, but the courtly manners of the Northern elite were gone. Then he turned to Noa, earnest honesty in his eyes.

“I’ve been told you were the one who saved me.” And then he drew the shocked Noa by drawing him into a hug. “Thank you.”

Cautiously the older man patted his brother’s shoulder. “You…you saved me first. The gratitude is mine.”

“Nonsense. Without you I’d have died on the rocks with no hint to who I am.”

Tarn and Rin nodded, Rin interjecting. “Do you have any news? Anyone who knew him, or missed him?”

Liu felt Noa tense beside him, but the voice was steady when he replied. “No. I found none who truly knew him, and no one who missed him.”

The Councilman was not missed at all, it was true. The city was fast on the way to erasing his existence. Tacitly it was understood that the blame for the war could be laid on his and Amon’s shoulders, and thus no-one was truly at fault, and there for no real change needed to be made. Liu had raged against this as a councilman himself, angry that the man was such an easy target, while still hating him passionately. 

Now he wondered what Noa saw in him. What it must have been like, watching his young brother stand for everything he loathed about the city?

And now…

“No one? That is…unfortunate.” Tarrlok’s shoulders fell, but just like Tarn he seemed almost relieved. “Then I suppose I should stay here until someone comes looking for me.”

Turning to Tarn he nodded respectfully. “If that is alright with you?”

The Lighthouse Keeper laughed. “Of course! This town needs more than one healer, after all! And we’ll never turn away someone willing to work.”

Liu sensed the surprise from Noa’s stance. “…healing?”

“Oh yes.” Tarn replied. “After you told how he kept you alive in the water, we thought he might have been a healer with the UF. Turns out he took to water-bending like a natural, and though he’s struggling with healing, it’s coming.”

“And having someone able to do the bending as well as the herbs is quiet useful.” Rin continued. “We’ll need him when winter rolls around. Not needing to send for Republic City physicians will save many lives this year.”

“Then I would be glad to leave him in your care.” Noa smiled, still shaken from the news. “Now, if you could point us to an inn…”

Immediately all three of the Lighthouse residents began speaking, refusing to let Noa and Liu stay with anyone but themselves. So Liu found himself tethering their cart at the tip of the bluff and following Noa to the lighthouse.

It was a cozy place, warm and welcoming after trekking through the wilds for four days, but both travelers felt distinctly out of place amidst the familiarity the Keepers shared. It was only when Liu wandered over to tinker with a broken rotor that he was even noticed. 

But after that Tarn was all questions, bringing out new bits of machinery over supper and asking for tips on how to repair them. Even Tarrlok joined in, glancing over Liu’s shoulder and seeming oblivious to the shudder he received every time he accidentally touched him.

It was only after they had bedded down for the evening that Liu even realized that Noa had been silent for most of the night. Always staying on the outskirts, helping where he could yet not engaging in conversation if he could avoid it.

“You’ve been watching us.” Liu told him as they squeezed into the small guest room beds.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Noa shifted, drawing his knees in and staring at his hands. “I wanted to see if our fears were correct.”

“That you made him into a madman? I’d say not. Good for you.” Liu still wasn’t happy about the idea of altering memories, nor had he any intention of letting the former Amon off easy for it.

“Maybe. Am I wrong for lying to him about who he was?”

It was an honest question, and the way Noa’s voice wavered as he asked it made Liu refrain from giving a sarcastic retort. Instead, he considered. 

“He thinks he’s a hero, or at least a good man. He wasn’t. Ever. And yet…” Liu sighed. “He’s happy with his lie. Out here he’s doing no one any harm, and maybe even helping people. That might change if he ever remembers. But…”

“But now he has a chance to be a good man. The man our father never let him be.” Noa sighed. “Maybe you’re right, and he doesn’t deserve that. I know I don’t. But…now he has a family and a real home.”

“And maybe even a lover. Did you see that girl in the village, panting after him?” Liu shook his head. It had been a long time since he’d felt that kind of affection for another.

“She certainly not a girl, nor was she panting. Looked like a widow of a fisherman, looking for a new husband. My brother could do worse.” Noa replied. 

“You’ll have nieces and nephews, then.” Liu teased, then was surprised when Noa shivered.

“I hope not or...I hope he can be happy with simply children, and not go down our father’s footsteps.”

“I don’t think Rin or Tarn would let him. They seem to have a good eye on goings on in the village… And without the memory of blood-bending, how would he teach them?”

“He might not have a choice.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t think Tarrlok or I rebelled against our fathers wishes? I remember him as a tiny child, refusing to harm another human because of his own moral standing. I ran into a blizzard rather than face the path my father set for me. And yet we both became the monsters he wished of us. What’s to stop his children from having the same fate?”

“Tarn and Rin and the girl who loves him. Couldn’t that be enough?”

Noa shook his head, not knowing the answer. “My father was kind too. Before my brother and I showed our bending.”

“Tarrlok isn’t your father. He can heal. He loves it and he loves these people. Do you think, after the kindness they’ve shown him, that he would betray that?”

“I did.” Noa glanced up, meeting Liu’s eyes. “And my father did before me.”

“Well, you’re no longer a poor influence on him.” Liu snapped. “And I’m not going to leave you here to watch over him, just to make sure he has a suitably miserable life. You can punish yourself all you wish, but you’ve taken responsibility for his actions by removing his memory. There is nothing more you can do for him, other than trust that he is capable of becoming a better man.”

“Would that we were both capable of the same redemption.” 

There wasn’t much Liu could say to that. Leaving Noa behind wasn’t an option – if for the logical reason that Noatak and Tarlokk interacted like water and fire and things tended to explode when they had arguments. As for whether Noa had any right to redemption, what with both his and his brothers actions on his back…Liu didn’t think too hard on it. He had already seen the conclusion Noa must have come to, as the man toiled alongside him, walking on broken bones when he could have ridden, refusing food for no reason than stubbornness and regret, standing watch when no soul was miles around…

It was foolish, idiotic, and a waste of time, but Liu still couldn’t speak those words aloud. Noa punishing himself for his deeds did little to repay his debt to Liu – it only caused another potential burden. But…did Liu let it go on because it was a battle he did not want to fight, or because some part of him took sick pleasure in watching his former commander debase himself in shame and self-loathing. After all the man had done, surely he deserved it…

His thoughts whirled around and around the same circle as he faded to sleep, parts of him crying to forgive his friend, others crowing at the man’s suffering. Perhaps simply letting him die would have been easier…

\---------------------------------- 

The morning was crisp and cold, with a breeze blowing in from the west that stirred up waves all across the peninsula. Crowfish jumped and swam in the spray, waking Liu from an uneasy slumber with their harsh cries.

Noa was already awake, helping Rin in the kitchen with breakfast. Rice and fish, high cuisine after a week of thin porridge, canned fruit and whatever they could scavenge in the forest.

Liu said as much before realizing his error.

“You walked the whole way here?” Rin asked, eyebrows skyrocketing. “I thought the UF paid better than that.”

“They do.” Liu said, mind whirling to find an adequate explanation. “For those honorably discharged.”

Tarn snorted from behind them. “Forgive me, but what could a man like you do to get dishonorably discharged? You two are the kindest soldiers we’ve seen this way for a long time. Usually they’re the sorts that don’t quite understand that a medal doesn’t win you the pick of fisher-girls, no matter how ‘naïve’ they might be.”

There was iron in his voice at this, and Liu and Noa exchanged a glance.

“Nothing like that.” Noa amended quickly.

“I had a bit of an…argument with my superior.” Liu added. Noa’s face froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and it was all he could do not to avoid being kicked under the table. “Left me a bit banged up and looking to find a bit more… honesty in my life.”

Watching Noa attempt to smile and nod at this lifted Liu’s spirits considerably. True, it was a lie, but it was a lie by omission, something all Equalists were rather good at, and these people were kind enough to deserve some of the truth.

Even if they seemed to take it the wrong way, as Rin’s eyes grew wide and she looked between the two ‘soldiers’.

“Oh.” She whispered quietly. “Oh.”

Tarn looked blank, following his wife’s eyes with a crease of confusion on his brow, a question on his lips that he quickly turned to something else when his wife stepped on his foot. 

“Well, we here care about actions, not intent. As long as you keep to that honor Noa’s so good at, you’re welcome for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, but we’re heading in land next.” Liu said. “This costal air isn’t good for Noa’s health. Right, dear?” He smiled sweetly at the still-sputtering Noa.

“Right.” The former leader said through gritted teeth. There was a light flush on his cheeks, obvious only because of the odd tan the bandages had given him. “And Liu came from a farming family, so it might be nice to find a little farm of our own.” Now the smile was sad, if genuine. “I’ve never tried that before. Growing things, rather than killing.”

“Most soldiers see too much bloodshed to ever really leave the service behind.” Rin said quietly. “It’s good that you are trying to start over again. I wish you luck.”

And then she stood, collecting dishes just as Tarrlok opened the door. He was carrying a heavy satchel over his shoulder and was trailing the young fisherwoman from the day prior. The satchel revealed the morning’s catch, and the small woman stomped over to the kitchen table as she waited for Tarrlok to finish unpacking it.

“Are you taking him away?!” The girl demanded from Noa and Liu. “To go back to that horrid city?”

“No.” Noa answered, even as Liu muttered under his breath “we’d better not.”

“Good!” She snapped, trading another parcel for one from Tarn. “Kor is happy here. You’re not allowed to take him away.”

“Kor?” Prompted Noa, looking the girl up and down. He liked what he saw; fierce but with a warm and open face. There was no hint of the sorrow and pain that had painted his mother's face even before she had met his father. Perhaps she would be a good protector for his brother. 

“Korral.” Tarrlok answered. “It seemed appropriate, given where you found me and the battle that took my memory.”

“You’re named after the Avatar.” Noa sat down heavily. 

“Yes.” The girl responded. “It’s a good, strong name for someone who can overcome anything.”

“You…want that name?” Noa asked, looking at his brother with widened eyes.

“I can’t remember my real name.” A shrug. “Sun Yi says that the Avatar is courageous woman who regained everything she had lost through will power alone. Given how little we know of my former life, will and spirit seems the only thing left that could cure me.”

“Are you sure you wish to be cured?” Liu asked, stealing the words from Noa’s lips. The words looked better coming from his harsh face anyways. And it was an answer he needed to know, for both their sakes. If Tarrlok ever remembered who he was…they would be in danger no matter where they fled.

“Liu!” Rin snapped. 

“No, he has a point.” The newly christened Kor answered quietly. “To be truthful, you two have given me even less reason to return. If this is the way the UF treats injured or disgraced soldiers…I think I am better here, without my memories, than back in Republic City picking up the pieces of a life I do not know was worth saving.”

Noa’s eyes narrowed. There was something in the way Kor’s face had fallen. Perhaps he did not remember; there was no way the arrogant Tarrlok would have been able to hide his disgust with his surroundings or anger at his brother; but the tension in the man’s face hinted at some dark suspicions on his part.

Whatever story he had constructed of his past, it wasn’t as simple as the UF water-bending hero. And the appearance of Liu and ‘Noa’ had only confirmed his suspicions rather than allaying them. 

“None of that matters.” Snapped Sun Yi. “What matters is that you’re wanted here.” The look she gave Noa and Liu quite clearly indicated that they were not wanted. She was a more perceptive girl than she seemed, if so. She easily picked up on Kor’s feelings and was quick to usher him back out of the Lighthouse and to work, speeding goodbyes and politely but firmly indicating that Kor had no need for complexities in his new life.

Kor looked helplessly after her as she sauntered out of the door and turned, waiting for him. He turned sheepishly to Noa.

“Sorry. But Sun Yi is taking me around to the outlying cottages so I know the rout for winter. It’ll take the rest of the day…”

“It’s alright.” Noa stood and extended a hand. “I understand you have other commitments now. I’m just glad you’re doing well.”

His stilted smile was met with a genuine one from his brother. Tarrlok’s new grip was firm and honest as the one he had given to Korra six months earlier, but now there were callouses and rough skin beneath Noatak’s grip. Tarrlok’s eyes searched his, looking for an answer he really didn’t want to find.

Whatever he saw in Noatak’s eyes was enough. He smiled. “Thank you. For everything. And safe journeys. The world needs more heroes like you.”

And then he was gone, disappearing out of the door and leaving Noa staring after him, hand still half-extended, his face a whirl of emotion. By the time he had gotten himself under control Liu had accepted the extra supplies Rin offered and was carting their bags to the door. 

“Write to us when you find a home.” Rin said. “We’ll keep you updated on his recovery.”

“Thank you. If he relapses…”

“He’ll have all of us to help reconstruct his memories. That’s a better deal than the UF ever gave him.” Tarn said.

Noa nodded. “I hope you’re right.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

He started laughing just after they crossed the town line. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh, tinged as it was with hysteria. Luckily none of the town’s people were about, or else their cover might have been blown. There is only so much maniacal laughter one can hear before suspicions are aroused. Not that Noa’s laugh was insane so much as half-broken. 

“Noa?” Liu halted the bison and dismounted. “Noa?”

The former Equalist brushed away his friend’s concerned hands.

“Korral. Of all the names…” He laughed harder, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. 

“It is a bit ironic, yes. But what – “

“We didn’t have to worry after all.” Noa said. “He’s fine. He’s going to have a good life.”

“Were you really that worried for him?” Noa’s look was answer enough for Liu. The Lieutenant’s hands clenched on the saddle and he urged the bison forward again. Something stung at Noa’s laughter. Yes, the situation was comical, but surely it wasn’t just relief and a name that was prompting this.

“So the villain is saved. Your technique works. Are you going to turn those hands on me now? Erase that embarrassment of what those people think of us?” 

Silence. When Liu looked back the smile had been stripped from Noa’s face, replaced with a look of horror and true sadness. 

“I would never…”

“Turn those hands on someone you cared about? From what the Avatar said, you have remarkably few morals when it comes to your own abilities. And wouldn’t it get you what you wanted? You could go off and die, content with the knowledge that I would be safely out of the way.”

“Is that what you think? That I – “

“I could read your face back there, Amon. Noa. Whatever you wish to call yourself now. You looked at that man’s life and envied it. And you know you don’t deserve it. You never will.” 

“And you think goading me into stripping you of your memories will do anything to change my pain?”

“Then why did you come with me?” Liu snapped. “You could have saved any Equalist, yet you chose me. Why?”

“Liu…” Noa sighed his friend’s name. “You know the answer to that.”

“Then why leave me my memories? Of my wife and child? Of my friends who died? Of what you did to me? Wouldn’t it be kinder to forget all that, to start a new life with none of that…that poison you infect everyone with?”

“I…” A pause. “I could take your memories, yes. And if you truly wanted it, I would do it. I would free you from me, and never look back.”

He looked up, finally. The words wrote themselves on his face, clear from his tone and expression. There. I said it. Is that what you wanted? 

Liu stared back at his friend, a perverse part of him enjoying the pain on Amon’s face. After all that man put him through…

“Don’t you dare blood-bend me ever again.”

The shock was more enjoyable, though. As was the flicker of relief on Noa’s face. Pain was easy, especially when the repentant sinner was concerned, but the surprise and hope in the former Equalist’s face broke lose something in Liu’s chest and made him breathe again, the anger evaporating as quickly as it came.

“…what?”

“I said, don’t ever blood-bend me again. Ever. Touch my memories, and I will kill you. Leave my side, and I will hunt you down and undo all the evil you bleed into the world. So promise me. You will never blood-bend me again.”

The relief flowed out of the blood-bender in palpable waves. And for the first time, Amon truly smiled at Liu. Not a flicker of happiness, not a stiff, pretend smile, not hysterical laughter. Just an honest smile.

“Of course. I never want to blood-bend anyone again, much less you. It’s a promise I’ll happily make.”

But promises were easy to make, and much harder to keep. And as Liu clicked at their goat-bison, he kept that in the back of his mind. There was nothing preventing Noa from giving him the freedom that he had earned. Just a promise. But that would have to be enough.

\-----------------------------------------------


End file.
